Page 38 of Sebastian

He gently collects me off the wall, squatting down so I can unwind my legs from his arms to stand on the cold marble floor. I keep ahold of his shoulders, shaking out my numb legs while his hands remain on my ribcage.

“For now? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I need food and a shower, maybe even a drink or two, before we do that again.”

His hazel eyes gleam in the sun pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The clarity and brightness are akin to the intense gaze of a tiger that he teases me of being.

“I like where you’re going with this. I’ll order Mexican food and a pitcher of margaritas, no two pitchers. Do you like fajitas? Never mind, I’ll just get a bunch of stuff, and then we can have a little bit of everything.”

His voice lightens with excitement, clearly enchanted with his idea now that he’s gotten laid a couple of times.

“Go ahead and take a shower if you want. I’ll order the food and get Jiles started on the clothes. You can borrow something of mine in the meantime.”

He’s talking a mile a minute, eager to plan the next several hours for us, when a fleeting thought about my Sunday reset comes to mind. I have half of it done. The other half could be pushed to tomorrow after work, even though the thought of itmakes me uncomfortable. But I only live once, and Mexican food and margaritas after sex sounds perfect. What the hell?

“I like it all, so get whatever you want,” I say when his hands leave my body to catch the condom falling off his limp cock. “Can I jump in the shower, or do you need me to handle something?”

He’s already walking away when he hollers over his shoulder, “Go right ahead, take as long as long as you want. The food usually takes forty-five minutes.”

I roll my ankles and stretch my thighs, releasing tension when he returns with a stack of clothes to dump on the armchair.

“This is the smallest I have, so let me know if it’ll work.” He towers over me, and I’m doubtful about the clothes fitting, but I’ll give it a whirl. “I’ll start the shower for you.”

He steps inside the large enclosure, turning dials and adjusting things while giving me a mini tutorial on the different controls and jets. It’s over the top and utterly ridiculous, yet so fitting for him. The body jets hit different pressure points, soothing away tender muscles caused by our circus sex. I moan almost as much from the shower as I did from him. With some time to think, my mind wanders over the last twenty-four hours of knowing him.

I was surprised at Taylor’s unexpected weekend fling with Paolo when she confessed it to me that Monday morning. But having watched them become an annoyingly cute couple with their elevator make-out sessions and sneaky meeting glances, I can see how easily this kind of thing could happen.

Sebastian is different from the people I would typically date. He’s far too loud and flashy for my tastes, yet it works on a few different levels because he doesn’t care. His jolly nature and charisma lead me to believe I could tell him anything, and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

Like the unexpected way that I blew him off last night, wanting to leave the party, and then he made me his Mrs. Claus.Or the way I got upset at thinking his friend saw us have sex, and he didn’t back down from my angry accusation. Instead, he just proved me wrong.

He doesn’t back down from my strength or intensity. Instead, he embraces it and calls me a tiger. It’s rather refreshing from the fragile male egos I usually date. To hell with my Sunday reset, I want to see where this goes. True to his word, he lets me take my time, not returning to the bathroom again, and it makes me wonder what he’s up to.

I finish in the shower, dry off, and get dressed in his designer sweatsuit. The cream-colored waistband has to be rolled up several times, looking more like a diaper in the crotch. But the soft fabric on the inside caresses my clean, scented skin in the best way possible. The sweatshirt is down to my thighs, and I have to roll up the sleeves.

Not wanting to rummage through his drawers, I use my fingers to comb through my wet hair, leaving it to air dry and finish getting all the remnants of my makeup off. If ever I was hesitant to have a guy see me without my makeup on a first date, that worry was obliterated when he said I looked like that Quinn person.

If we keep seeing each other, he’ll see me without makeup eventually better sooner rather than later. When finally ready, I open the bathroom doors to an empty but opulent bedroom. The mural on the ceiling is out of this world, with intricate details of a battle and various fight scenes. The room itself mirrors the opulence of the mural above. Rich shades of blue and gray dominate the decor, creating an atmosphere of both elegance and warmth.

A grand four-poster bed takes center stage, dressed in lustrous dark blue linens and adorned with plump pillows. A chandelier hangs overhead, casting a romantic and soft luminescence, the crystals winking in the ambient light. It’s aspace that speaks of the luxury and culture I’ve dreamed about and only seen in magazines.

“There you are. How do you feel?”

Sebastian breezes through the door, looking fresh and clean, donned in joggers and a sweatshirt similar to my outfit. His hazel eyes gleam with approval.

“That looks good on you.”

He reaches out to adjust the front of my shirt and presses a couple of sweet kisses on my lips.

I can’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you shower with me?”

A twinge of doubt and confusion sneaks into my tone, and I wonder if there’s a problem I’m unaware of. Sebastian gives me an odd look, tilting his head as he processes my question.

“Chicks like their private time, don’t they? I figured you might need to take a dump or something and might not want me to know.”

I burst out laughing at his rather unconventional assumption.

“That makes sense, but I didn’t need to take a dump.”

“Well, if you ever do, just pick any of the ten bathrooms up here, and you’ll never have to let me know.”

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